


the early bird catches the scorn

by cori_the_bloody



Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: Episode: s04e14 I'm Finding My Bliss, Gen, Missing Scene, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:49:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23813314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cori_the_bloody/pseuds/cori_the_bloody
Summary: Valencia and Nathaniel are both early for rehearsal. They might as well wait for it to start together.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	the early bird catches the scorn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anthropologicalhands](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthropologicalhands/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Ellie! I strongly associate you with missing scene fics, Nathaniel & Valencia interacting, and fics where Valencia gets the attention she deserves. So this seemed a fitting tribute; hope you think so, too. <3
> 
> Thank you to Bethany for reading this over.

Though he really should have learned his lesson by now, Nathaniel keeps showing up fifteen minutes early to rehearsals only to find an empty theater.

With a sigh, he falls into a seat in the fourth row and pulls out his phone. Evening emails have already piled up in his inbox, and he wills himself to feel guilt over the sight of them. He shouldn’t be here, after all, not when he’s almost certainly about to lose one of his best employees to another firm.

The thought forces him to his feet.

After taking a second to look around the auditorium, he shoves his phone back in his pocket and makes his way to the front of the audience, up the steps, and back behind the stage. Though the lighting is sparse with none of the crew around, he’s familiar enough with the layout to pick his way toward the production rooms without running into anything.

A smile starts to overtake him as he recalls Rebecca’s eagerness to explore everything in the building.

“I told you I wasn’t going to be available.”

Valencia’s voice carries out from the greenroom, snagging his attention.

“Yeah, well, when I make a _commitment_ I find it’s important to honor it,” she’s saying, laying emphasis so thick, Nathaniel is surprised she doesn’t choke on it. “Don’t you think so?”

He stops in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and waves at her. She tosses a sharp glare at him over her shoulder, and then goes back to scrutinizing her makeup in the lighted mirrors.

“Obviously,” she says to whomever’s on the other end of the call.

Nathaniel turns, about to go looking for literally anyone else, when Valencia concludes the phone call with a snippy, “Figure it out, Beth,” before rounding on him. “What are you doing here?”

He raises his eyebrows. “We have rehearsal.”

“Uh-huh.”

Her evident dismissal rankles him. Who does she think he is, some kind of Hector? He’s not gonna cower just because she’s got narrowing her eyes down to a science.

“And what about you, huh?” he hears himself asking.

“What about me?”

“You don’t strike me as someone who takes on undignified hobbies because you have no sense of shame.”

She stands then, crossing her arms over her chest. “Got me all figured out, do you?”

“No,” he says, and he takes note—with great satisfaction—of the way her steely front nearly cracks over her surprise at the admission. “But I do know you’re here hiding from something.”

“Oh, really? And what gives—”

“Rehearsal barely starts on time, let alone thirty minutes early. Yet here you are.”

She juts out her chin, examining him with fresh eyes. Or differently critical ones, at least.

“Rebecca’s not a punctual person,” she says finally.

He lets out a surprised laugh even though the sequitur is completely trackable. “She used to work for me, remember? I’m well aware.”

“Yet here you are.”

He inclines his head, conceding her point.

When neither of them speaks for several tense moments, he realizes how ridiculous it is that he’s standing in the doorway, giving her permission to chase him away with the right words. Huffing, he moves for the couch.

She seems to sense the unspoken defiance and, with those perfectly narrowed eyes, settles on one of the stools across from him.

“I’d forgotten,” he says after a few more seconds of silence, but then trails off without finishing.

Valencia makes a funny face. “That Rebecca’s never on time?”

“No,” he says, frowning. “That this is actually kind of fun.”

“Waiting for rehearsal to start?”

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Are you intentionally misunderstanding me?”

“Are you intentionally being vague to stop this from becoming an actual conversation?” she shoots back. “Please say yes.”

He grins tightly. “You asked me what I was doing here.”

“Yeah, as an indirect way of telling you to leave,” she says, widening her eyes at him as if that should have been obvious and he’s an idiot for not picking up on it.

He raises an eyebrow at her, pointedly getting more comfortable on the couch. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a great conversationalist?”

She pulls her feet up onto her seat, hugging her legs to her chest. “You’re the one who can’t even find enough words to say you love musical theater.”

“I don’t love it,” he says with a sneer. “I just…seem to have a higher tolerance for it than I’d prefer to admit.”

“Whatever,” she says, examining her nails. “So you have more than one reason for being here. Not like you get a medal.”

“I didn’t want a medal.”

“Good.”

“Great!”

They stay locked in their positions—Valencia’s chin on her knees and eyes narrowed at Nathaniel, his fists tightening where they rest along the back of the couch as he stares right back.

“You know,” Valencia says, looking away first, and Nathaniel kicks his feet up onto the table, reclining further to celebrate his victory—preemptively, as it happens; the rest of her sentence is soaked in vitriol. “I don’t think your extra reason makes what you’re doing to Rebecca less pathetic.”

He blinks. “Doing to her?”

“Oh, please,” Valencia tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Like you and Josh trailing her around like strays doesn’t put all kinds of weird pressure on her.”

He feels his face pinch with confusion. “Has she said something to you?”

“No,” she says, flinging the response at him as if it’s a slug she just found creeping up her arm. “But that’s not the point.”

“What is your point?”

“She shouldn’t have to spell everything out for you dipshits. If you really care about her half as much as you claim to, you should be able to figure out what she wants. She’s not being subtle!”

Nathaniel’s eyebrows scale up his forehead. “You’re right.”

She looks at him like he’s just spilled hot coffee on her, and he nearly snorts.

_Point to me_ , he thinks. Out loud, he elaborates for her. “Rebecca is not subtle. Even Josh can usually discern what she’s thinking, and he finds Sudoku with only three numbers a challenge.”

Valencia chokes out a laugh.

“If she didn’t want me here,” he says, pressing his point even though other people have entered the room, “I’d know. There might even be a chase and a sharp object involved.”

Having schooled her features back into passive disdain, Valencia only offers him on eyebrow twitch in response.

He grins back at her, and then shifts until he’s lying on the couch, the picture of total ease.

With a harrumph, she pulls a folder out of her purse, and then extracts sheet music from that.

“I hope your costume is frilly,” she says after a beat of silence. “And itchy.”

“I hope yours smells like it’s spent the appropriate amount of time out at sea.”

They exchange an amused look.

“I still don’t like you,” she informs him after the moment has passed. He can’t help but notice that there’s less fervor that usual behind the proclamation.

He shrugs. “I still don’t especially care.”

Valencia looks ready to say something else, but Rebecca bustles into the room, commanding attention as usual.

“Hey, guys! Guess what.”

Nathaniel sits up so quickly, the room seems to wobble before settling into place. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Valencia give a miniscule shake of her head.

So, he’s not very subtle either. Just means Rebecca probably knows exactly why he’s here after all and isn’t bothered.

A guy can hope, anyway.


End file.
